


Day 009

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:15:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Relationships: Merrill/Noll (Dragon Age OC)
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 4





	Day 009

A knock on Merrill’s door startled her from her reading. She hastily shoved her copy of The Botanical Compendium back on the shelf and did a quick survey of the state of her house. It hadn’t gotten too messy since Hawke’s visit. Her dishes were still stacked in her mirror room but it would have to do. She opened the door expecting to see Varric, he was the only one who dropped by unannounced these days, but was instead met by a fellow elf. He was the leader of the group who had offered their blood the morning of the fires. Today, his long blond hair was braided with feathers and beads, in a style unique to the elves of Kirkwall. He carried a basket, the contents of which were hidden under a red cloth.

“Good day, Merrill,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, hello,” Merrill replied. She knew he had introduced himself the last time they had met but she couldn’t remember his name. Fortunately Merrill was well practised at pretending she hadn't forgotten someone's name. “Lovely day we’re having aren’t we. Nothing is on fire. Nothing’s on fire is it?”

“Not in the alienage at least,” he replied.

“Oh, well that’s good. Thing’s are absolutely better when nothing’s on fire.”

“True. I… are you otherwise engaged today?” He asked.

“Not really, I suppose. I was just doing some reading. Is there more trouble with the humans?”

“No that’s not it. Well there is always trouble with the shemlen but that’s not why I’m here.” He held up the basket. “The others and I put this together for you, as thanks for saving our homes.” He took off the cloth with a flourish, revealing a bottle of dandelion wine, a loaf of flatbread and some cheese. The visitor offered the basket to Merrill, who took it.

“Thank you,” she said. From his expression her visitor was expecting something else but Merrill wasn’t quite sure what. There was a lifetime of unspoken social expectations she had failed to learn.

“Well,” said the visitor. “You have a good day.” He turned to leave, slowly, he gaze holding Merrill’s for a few heartbeats longer than normal.

“Why don’t you come in for a bit,” she blurted out. “We can share the food and wine.”

The visitor’s smile told Merrill she had managed to say the right thing for once. He strode in and Merrill led him to her chairs. Her guest took Hawke’s usual seat. Merrill found her last two clean cups and poured the wine. Her guest used his belt-knife to cut the bread and spread the cheese.

“If I may ask,” said her guest. “What would make a dailish want to leave her people and live among humans?”

“That’s a very long story,” Merrill mumbled into her wine. “Some days I think I made a terrible mistake coming here. Why would anyone stay here surrounded by humans who hate us?”

“We can’t all leave,” said the guest. “I can’t imagine the dailish would like having their woods flooded by hundreds of elves who don’t know the first thing about surviving in the wilds. It’s not an easy life but we can survive. We are not without… friends here.”

Merrill’s guest dropped the subject after that and they spoke of other things. Her magical training, his small band of elves who roamed the streets at night, protecting the elved from human thieves and murderers. They talked until the sun started to go down. Her guest excused himself but invited Merrill to come visit him at his home in a few days, she agreed, perhaps a bit enthusiastically as he chuckled at her response. He left the red cloth behind and told her that is she ever needed help all she had to do was hand it on her door and a friend would know to come by.

“Which friends?” Merrill alsked.

“You never know with friends,” her guest said as he left. That struck Merrill as a rather odd thing to say but she never knew what was odd to other people.

Merrill was struck with a sudden urge to give her house a thorough cleaning, just in case her guest decided to return.


End file.
